


give you everything

by elizaham8957



Series: one step closer [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Lydia is a ballerina AU, Snuggling, although that's not particularly relevant, engaged stydia, happy valentines day everyone!, just fluff, nothing else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: “Why can’t we go cake tasting again?” Stiles asked, eyes trained on the ceiling. Lydia laughed, shifting so her hand rested on his chest, right above his sternum, her hand pillowing her chin.“Because we already picked out a cake,” she told him, smiling affectionately.“Yeah, but the other bakeries don’t have to know that, Lyds,” he said, as if this were obvious. “You are squandering our chance to have literally unlimited free cake.”“I still need to fit in my wedding dress, you know,” she said, a smile playing at her lips. Stiles scoffed, hands resting over her lower back, warm and heavy.“You burn like a billion calories a day in dance. You’re probably fine.”





	give you everything

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone!! Here is a quick little installment of the Pas de Deux 'verse in celebration. So, enjoy some plotless fluff featuring engaged Stydia and wedding planning. Quick disclaimer: I've never planned a wedding before, so this could be wildly inaccurate, I have no idea. 
> 
> Valentine's Day in 2022 (which is the year this takes place) is miraculously on a Monday, so I feel like this was truly meant to be. This takes place about a year after the end of the last fic in this series. 
> 
> Title is from Moulin Rogue because I recently remembered how much I love that movie and now I'm SPIRALING. It's fine.
> 
> As always, I'm stilesssolo on tumblr and twitter, and I'd love to know what you think. Happy Valentine's Day loves!!

Sometimes, Lydia wished she could live in Mondays.

That statement alone was almost enough to make her laugh, because generally people _hated_ Mondays. But in the dance world, Mondays were the weekends she never got, and while she loved to dance, really, and morning practices were her favorite time in the studio, there was something about waking up late on her day off, snuggled up in her bed, warm sunlight streaming into the room and Stiles’s arms around her waist that made her wish time could freeze altogether.

“Mmmph,” Stiles mumbled, shifting in his sleep, blinking sleepily at Lydia as he woke up. Instinctually, he tightened his arms around her, burying his head into her shoulder, and she laughed slightly, carding her hands through his hair.

“Good morning,” he murmured into her skin, nose nudging against her collarbone.

“Good morning,” she responded, shifting in their bed, their legs tangled together. Stiles’s hands were warm on her lower back, and she nuzzled her head into his neck, reveling in the warmth of his body curled around hers.

There was, of course, the added bonus that Stiles’s day off was Monday as well.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Stiles added, pulling back so he could kiss her good morning properly. She smiled against his lips, her arms wrapping around him, hands running over his back muscles.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she repeated back, kissing him again quickly. She moved to sit up, the quilt shifting as she moved, but Stiles groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back down into the bed. She laughed as she fell against his chest, his arms keeping her trapped there.

“We have to get out of bed,” she informed him, tilting her chin to meet his eyes. They were still full of sleep, but those amber irises shined in the early morning sunlight, soft in that way they were only when they were fixed on her.

“Says who?” Stiles yawned, shifting his hands, fingers running up and down her spine. “It’s Valentine’s Day. We can _totally_ stay in bed all day and it would be completely justified.”

“We have things to do,” she reminded him, though she made no effort to snake free from his arms.

“Ugh,” Stiles groaned, closing his eyes again, burying his head in his pillow. “I don’t remember anything of importance being on our to do list.”

“Do you remember the _wedding_ we’re having in four months?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She tried not to laugh at the look on Stiles’s face— a mix of panic, exasperation, and overflowing affection— but failed miserably.

“How much do we really have left to do?” Stiles asked. “We sent out invitations. We have a date and a place. You have a dress and I have a tux. We bought rings. What more do we need?”

“Do you want me to go get my to do list?” Lydia asked, moving to sit up again, but Stiles tugged her back into his chest, shaking his head.

“No, I believe you,” he assured her. “Still. I think we can afford one day off from planning.” Lydia raised an eyebrow at him again, and he sighed, dropping his head back onto the pillows.

“What do we have today?” Stiles asked, fingers still drawing patterns on her back.

“We’re meeting with the florist to finalize the arrangements,” she told him. In all honesty, it wouldn’t even take that long. She’d made her selections a few months ago, they just had to solidify everything now.

“Why can’t we go cake tasting again?” Stiles asked, eyes trained on the ceiling. Lydia laughed, shifting so her hand rested on his chest, right above his sternum, her hand pillowing her chin.

“Because we already picked out a cake,” she told him, smiling affectionately.

“Yeah, but the other bakeries don’t have to _know_ that, Lyds,” he said, as if this were obvious. “You are squandering our chance to have literally _unlimited free cake.”_

“I still need to fit in my wedding dress, you know,” she said, a smile playing at her lips. Stiles scoffed, hands resting over her lower back, warm and heavy.

“You burn like a billion calories a day in dance. You’re probably fine.”

Lydia laughed at that, resting her cheek on Stiles’s chest. She could hear his heartbeat thumping through his t-shirt, rhythmic and steady.

“We do still need to pick a first dance song,” she reminded him, because they had most other big details nailed down, after a little over a year of being engaged, but their first dance was still something in which they both came up empty.

“See, that’s super important,” Stiles said, wrapping his arms tighter around her. “We clearly need to lay in bed _all day_ and figure that out before doing anything else.”

Lydia laughed, head still pressed into his chest. “If we never get out of bed, we can’t go get pastries after dinner tonight.”

Stiles shrugged, like he was considering if laying in bed all day was worth missing their dinner reservations in the North End. They always made lowkey plans for Valentine’s Day— generally a nice dinner with dessert afterwards, nothing extravagant or lavish or over-the-top. Neither of them really felt the need to spend exorbitant amounts of money on presents or planning for a day to celebrate something they already knew: they loved each other more than anything else.

“Mike’s should deliver,” Stiles said, kissing her hair. “New idea: we could skip the florist _and_ the North End, order pizza for dinner, and then get Insomnia Cookies.”

“Tempting,” Lydia said, shifting in his arms again to meet his eyes. “I was really in the mood for chicken bocconcini, though.” She rolled off of Stiles, rearranging her body so that her head was on her own pillow and she could look him in the eyes without craning her neck. “And if we don’t go out for dinner, you can’t steal my leftover risotto tomorrow.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Stiles said, shaking his head in defeat. “Stealing your leftover risotto is my favorite part of Valentine’s Day.”

Lydia laughed, leaning closer to kiss him again, her hand coming up to cup his face. He smiled against her lips, chasing after them as she pulled away, his arms snaking around her waist again.

“You need to shave today,” Lydia informed him, her thumb brushing over the stubble along his jawline. He clearly hadn’t bothered to shave in a day or two, and generally Lydia didn’t mind the scruff— it _was_ a very good look on him, she would admit— but it also scratched her skin, and that was _definitely_ going to be a hindrance tonight.

“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, smiling at her sweetly, as if to say _whatever you want._ “Hey, Lyds,” he said, his voice impossibly soft, his hand tracing patterns on her side again.

“Yes, Stiles?” she asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement at the dreamy look on his face.

“I love you,” he told her, grinning lazily, fingers stroking her skin through the t-shirt she was wearing that had _definitely_ been his at some point. She smiled back, nudging his calf with her toe.

“I love you too,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut when he swooped in to kiss her nose.

It was that moment that Finn decided it was about time his humans fed him breakfast, and he jumped up on their bed, navigating through the tangled  blankets until his paws were right between Stiles and Lydia’s shoulders. “Hey, bud,” Stiles said, sitting up so that the dog could clamber into his lap. He scratched his ears, laughing when Finn gave him a big, slobbery kiss on the cheek in greeting.

“What do you think?” Stiles asked the dog, rubbing his coat. “Should we just lay in bed all day and never move again?” The dog flopped down next to them, as if he agreed. Stiles looked at Lydia, triumphant.

“See?” he said. “Finn is game.”

Lydia laughed, moving so her head was in Stiles’s lap. His hands immediately moved to her hair, sifting through the long locks.

“Eventually Finn is going to want a meal and a walk,” she said, the dog’s ears perking up at _meal._ She moved to sit up, but Stiles grabbed her waist again, pulling her into his arms and keeping her tight against his chest. She laughed, swatting at his hands, but he didn’t let her go, resting his forehead against the top of her head instead.

“I’m not letting you go until you text the florist to postpone and agree we can lay in bed all day,” he murmured into her hair. Lydia laughed again, shaking her head, but she didn’t try to escape his hold, his hands warm on her waist.

“We have to have floral arrangements,” she insisted, resting her head against his chest.

“We will,”’he assured her. “We’ll get them next Monday. Today is Valentine’s Day, they’re probably already _swamped._ We’d be doing them a favor by cancelling, really.”

 _“Stiles,”_ Lydia sighed, but she couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice. It was tempting, his proposition. Right now, she really couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do than stay cuddled up in their bed all day, Stiles’s arms warm and solid around her.

“Planning a wedding is _hard,_ Lydia. We clearly need some extra rest.”

“You are ridiculous.” She tugged him down to her level, so he was lying next to her again, nestling her head into the crook of her neck.

“Mmm, yeah,” Stiles agreed, wincing as Finn stepped on his stomach, the dog curling up in the small gap between their bodies. Lydia reached one hand down, scratching the top of his head. Sure, they did have wedding planning to do, and dinner reservations later— but this feeling right now, curled up and surrounded by her little family, warm and comfortable and _safe—_ it was hard to deny how wonderful this was.

“One more hour can’t hurt,” she said, and Stiles’s smile was brighter than sunlight, his eyes light and golden as he looked at her like the entire universe was splayed out before him.

When she drifted off again, his arms still warm around her, wedding planning was the last thing on her mind.


End file.
